


i look up, you’re standing next to me (what a feeling)

by caramelle



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Everyone Thinks They're Together, F/M, Roommates, so there that's me stepping outta my comfort zone, though the REAL surprise is no over-invested octavia, would usually tag the other characters involved but LET'S KEEP IT A SURPRISE hur hur hur
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-31
Updated: 2016-03-31
Packaged: 2018-05-30 08:20:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6416056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caramelle/pseuds/caramelle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Dude, no need to get shy. You could do worse for a post-breakup shakeup. Shit, I wouldn’t mind mixing up a couple Screaming Orgasms with him — boy is <i>fine</i>."</p><p>"... We're <i>friends</i>."</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>  <b>Four times people thought Clarke and Bellamy were together + One time Clarke wanted people to think they were together</b></p>
            </blockquote>





	i look up, you’re standing next to me (what a feeling)

**Author's Note:**

> (title from ‘Brighter Than Sunshine’ by Aqualung)

 

 

 

**1.**

 

Okay, so, maybe Clarke isn’t as cool and confident as she makes out to be.

 

 _But_.

 

Try getting an invitation to drinks from your ex-boyfriend’s ex-fiancée who hadn’t even known you existed until she’d found the engagement ring the man she was supposed to marry had bought for another girl. Factor in another miserable two months spent desperately trying to put said ex-boyfriend and his ex-fiancée out of your mind and move on, and yeah, she’s probably allowed to her fair share of discomfort.

 

So, yeah, sure, she does have ulterior motives for suggesting she and Raven meet up at the bar Bellamy works at. She likes knowing there’s someone on hand who’s got her back if things go south, okay? Sue her.

 

Three mojitos in, it’s probably legitimately impossible to measure just how thankful she is that Raven Reyes is just about the most beautiful, hilarious and downright kickass person she’s ever met. She laughs when Raven yells for shots and pushes up on her barstool to wave enthusiastically at Bellamy, who serves up their tequila with a wry smile and a cocked brow directed at Clarke — equal parts reassuring amusement and watchful concern. She nods and flashes a lazy smile at him, enjoying the mojito-induced buzz coursing pleasantly through her.

 

He sets out salt and limes, and turns away to attend to a rowdy trio of young men at the other end of the bar.

 

Raven pauses, a brimming shot glass in hand, to whistle lowly.

 

“Holy shit, Griffin,“ she says with a devilish grin, elbowing Clarke none too gently. “Way to move _on_ , girl!”

 

Clarke blinks, one hand reaching for the salt. “Way to what?”

 

Raven nudges her again, eyes widening playfully. “Hot bartender!” She smirks at Clarke’s knitted brows. “Don’t play coy with me, babe. You two’ve been eyefucking _nonstop_ the _entire_ time we’ve been here!”

 

Clarke blinks again, trapped in her inability to settle on whether to laugh or cry at the very notion. Mostly, though, she’s just indescribably thankful that “hot bartender” is all the way on the other end of the bar, fully occupied with the arrival of the rest of the testosterone-charged trio’s party. She settles for an emphatic shake of her head.

 

“Dude, no need to get shy,” Raven tells her, leaning in close so Clarke can smell the minty aftertaste of their mojito marathon. “You could do worse for a post-breakup shakeup. Shit, _I_ wouldn’t mind mixing up a couple Screaming Orgasms with him — boy is _fine_.”

 

“No,” Clarke manages when her voice returns, her head still steadily shaking from side to side. “No, um, it’s not— we’re not— _I’m_ not—”

 

“Not into one-night stands?” Raven asks, her tone almost sympathetic as she props an elbow on the bartop. “Babe, before Finn, I never really thought they were all that either, but _trust_ me, the benefits are undeniable. One and done, it’s clean and fun, maybe sometimes you don’t always get _there_ , but this guy? He sure as fuck looks like he knows his way around a—”

 

“We’re _friends_ ,” Clarke cuts in — _loudly_. She pauses, glancing awkwardly down at her hands in a deliberate attempt to ignore the momentary stares they receive from their closest neighbours.

 

“… Oh.”

 

She’s still vaguely focused on her hands, so she isn’t exactly clear on what kind of “oh” that is. The silence stretches for another beat, bits of conversation from around the bar drifting in and around them. Clarke sighs deeply.

 

“Look, Raven — I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier, but, uh. Well. To be completely honest, I was kind of freaking out a little about meeting up with you, so I sort of worked it so I’d have someone close by in case…” Clarke exhales sharply, waving a hand. “I don’t know. In case you turned out to be a Real Housewife or something.”

 

She finally manages to drag her gaze back to Raven’s face, and is largely relieved when she sees the big grin on the brunette’s face.

 

“Shit, no, no, don’t apologise! It’s fucking great!” she says, but her voice is a little too thin, her smile a little too wide. “I’m just— God, Clarke. Don’t apologise for being happy.”

 

Clarke stares, now thoroughly confused. “… Huh?”

 

Raven’s smile softens, the plastic edge to it slipping away. “You deserve to be happy. We both do. You never have to fucking tiptoe around me or anyone else. There’s absolutely _zero_ reason to feel bad about moving on, letting someone else make you happy.”

 

“Um,” Clarke says, a flush rising on her cheeks as she realises what Raven’s implying.

 

“And shit, babe, this new boyfriend already looks ten times more promising than the old one,” Raven tells her, nudging her arm yet again. “Seriously, jawline for _days_. I’ll bet the sex is fucking—”

 

“Raven,” Clarke cuts in yet again, now firmly meeting the brunette’s gaze head-on, “Bellamy is my friend. I am his friend. We are _friends_.”

 

“Oh.” Raven leans back in her chair, chewing on her lip as her brows draw together as if in doubtful consideration. Her lips curl into a smirk, one dark brow arching teasingly. “So what’s your take on friends with benefits arrangements?”

 

“ _Raven_.”

 

“What!” the brunette says defensively, raising two hands in placation. “No reason we can’t _still_ get you laid.”

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

**2.**

 

Jasper introduces his new girlfriend to the group, and she's sweet and gentle and lovely and everyone wastes absolutely no time in informing her she’s too good for him. Octavia smiles approvingly (if not sympathetically) at her, and Miller offers his sincere condolences as Bellamy rolls his eyes at his best friend’s melodramatic tendencies.

 

Clarke grins warmly when Maya greets her, and makes sure to apologise on behalf of the rest of the gang.

 

“Jokes aside, I really hope we don’t scare you away after this,” she says, brushing loose yellow bangs out of her eyes.

 

“I’d like to think it’d take a little more than a few jokes,” Maya laughs easily, as a bright-eyed Jasper slings a lanky arm over her shoulder. “Oh, by the way — happy birthday!” She’s holding a generic white envelope out, Clarke’s name printed in the middle in neat black script.

 

Pleasantly surprised, Clarke automatically takes the envelope. “Oh, um— thank you! Wow, Maya, it’s so sweet of you, you really didn’t have to!”

 

“I wanted to,” Maya says cheerfully, blissfully unaware of her boyfriend’s adoring gaze on her. “I’m sorry it’s not pretty or anything, but I just thought— well, it _is_ your birthday after all! Go ahead, open it.”

 

Clarke flashes the happy couple a smile, and slides her finger under the lightly sealed flap to pull out a series of vouchers: a free hour at the batting cages for two, dinner for two at Polis with free dessert and drinks, two full body massages for the price of one, and complimentary movie passes for the cinema — two, to be exact.

 

Unless Clarke’s wrong — and she highly doubts she is — there’s definitely some kind of pattern here.

 

“Um,” she says, after a second. She looks up, smile still plastered on her face. Great. Jasper is suddenly nowhere to be found, leaving her alone with his girlfriend, with no one to glance sideways at in shared incomprehension. “Thank you?”

 

“Are they okay?” Maya asks breathlessly, rocking up and down on the balls of her feet. “I wasn’t sure what you guys like to do, if you’re more chill or if you like doing stuff with your bodies—“ her face flushes hot red, “—I mean like, doing physical activities together—”

 

“I’m sorry,” Clarke interrupts, frowning in confusion. “‘You guys’ would be…?”

 

Maya hesitates, wide eyes focused on Clarke. “You and Bellamy?” At the blonde’s expression of bewilderment, she glances uncertainly across the room at Jasper, where he’s snorting at something Monty’s saying. “Aren’t you— I’m sorry, you and Bellamy are a couple, right?”

 

Clarke blinks, resisting the urge to glance at Bellamy, though he’s well within her eyeline, just a few feet past Maya’s left shoulder, laughing with Raven. “Um. No.”

 

Realisation dawns on Maya’s face, and she groans in embarrassment. “Oh, no. Oh— I just figured, since Jasper’s always talking about you guys as, like, an item? It’s always Bellamy-and-Clarke, Clarke-and-Bellamy, I just thought— Oh, my _God_ —”

 

“No, it’s okay—”

 

“I am _so_ sorry, I should’ve—“

 

“No, really, Maya, don’t worry—“

 

“How’s it hangin’, ladies?”

 

Clarke raises both brows at Jasper in a doomed attempt at subtle communication.

 

“I messed up, Jas,” Maya says apologetically, gesturing at the vouchers in Clarke’s hands. “I gave Clarke stuff she could use for a few dates with Bellamy but they’re not even dating! I don’t even know why I thought they were, it’s just the way you always talk about them—”

 

“Holy shit,” Jasper says, leaning over for a closer look at the vouchers. “Are these— _is that a hot oil massage?!_ ” He turns to wave at the rest of the room. “Guys! _Maya got hot oil massages for Clarke and Bellamy!”_

 

They’re immediately swarmed by the rest of the group, everyone tangling into a mess of grasping hands and teasing shoulder nudges and elbow jabs. Within seconds, Raven comes up beside Clarke to snigger particularly hard into her ear.

 

Clarke catches Bellamy’s eye right as Octavia snatches the vouchers out of her hands, and can’t help but laugh wryly when he shrugs at her, the corners of his lips pulling up as he mouths _happy birthday, princess_.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

**3.**

 

“Look, it just makes sense, okay? Octavia’s moved in with Lincoln, and it doesn’t make sense for either of us to keep paying for entire apartments when we’ve both got whole rooms free. What? No, I told you, Raven moved in with Miller months ago. What do you mean _why can’t she_ , it’s so much closer to her work— you know what? That’s Raven’s business, and she’s not your daughter, so it’s not really any of yours. Yes, I know I— what? Wait, slow down— Mom? What are you— _What?_ No! No, no, no — _no_. Wha— I just _told_ you why we moved in together! How should I know _for how long_? For as long as we need to, okay? Listen, I’d really love to hang on the line for another twenty minutes but I have to go, okay? Yes, I promise. Next week. Okay. _Bye_.”

 

She pads back into the living room and flops down onto the couch, letting loose a long sigh that she’s been holding back for what feels like the entire week. She stares at the television, blinking at the _New Girl_ episode playing.

 

“My mom thinks we’re dating.”

 

Bellamy raises a brow at her from the other end of the couch, one hand absently tapping the remote against his middle. “So that’s what that was about.”

 

“She was all over me about why I never told her. She thinks it’s ‘too soon’.”

 

He hums noncommittally, sliding the remote over the wrinkled cotton of his T-shirt.

 

She yawns. “Do you think any of us will ever create something as iconic as Zooey’s bangs?”

 

He snorts. “You know what’s iconic? Ben & Jerry’s cookie dough shit.”

 

She glances sharply at him. “You didn’t.”

 

“Freezer,” he tells her, but she’s already up and running to the kitchen.

 

She returns within seconds, jumping excitedly onto the couch. He makes a big show of thanking her for bringing two spoons instead of one. She deliberately excavates all the bits of cookie dough out from the tub, and he pretends to be wounded by it even though they both know he prefers his ice cream plain.

 

 

 

* * *

 

  

 

**4.**

 

Clarke isn’t sure how to react when she sees Lexa, standing there in the middle of the coffee shop in dark jeans and boots she remembers shopping with her for, looking exactly like she remembers and yet, somehow, totally different.

 

“Clarke.” Lexa’s large eyes flicker briefly to Bellamy, standing silently at Clarke’s side regarding her with undisguised wariness. “Bellamy. Hello.”

 

“Hello,” Clarke returns automatically, fingers clenching on her cardboard cup for a split second.

 

“My hello’s irrelevant,” Bellamy says dryly, turning to quirk a brow at Clarke. “Wanna go? Or d’you need a minute?”

 

“Um,” she says, glancing up at him and back at Lexa, who’s waiting patiently with a perfectly neutral expression that she knows firsthand is a lot more practiced than it appears. “Yeah,” she says, a hand coming up to rest on his arm. It’s as much to reassure herself as it is him. “Yeah, I’ll catch up with you in a minute.”

 

Dark brown eyes bore into hers for a long moment — then, with a small smile and a nod, he’s out the door.

 

A taut silence stretches between the two girls.

 

Clarke clears her throat. “I heard you and Costia are—”

 

Lexa smiles, and it’s the warmest expression Clarke can ever remember seeing on her face. “Yes, we are. We are—we’re happy.”

 

Lexa and Costia had had a difficult past. Clarke’s short-lived relationship with her had taken place during the couple’s year apart, when Costia had taken up a job in Vancouver. Clarke knew how important Costia had been to the seemingly stoic Lexa, and though the abrupt end to the relationship had shaken her, she’d known it had been the right thing to do for both of them.

 

Clarke smiles. It’s small, but genuine. “I’m glad you are.”

 

Lexa nods, still wearing that expression that makes Clarke think of crackling fireplaces and hot chocolate. A tiny part of her wonders if she should be jealous or resentful that the expression is so unfamiliar to her. “I’m glad you are too. Even if it did take you a while to see.”

 

Clarke’s brows furrow together, head tilting to the side. “See… what?”

 

Lexa nods towards Bellamy, who’s occupied with the posters and notices crowding up the giant board beside the glass doors of the coffee shop. A crease appears between in the centre of her forehead as she sees Clarke’s confused frown. “Are you not together?”

 

Clarke’s brows shoot up. She somehow manages to remind herself to pull up her jaw before speaking. “ _Bellamy_? No, we’re just— it’s not— _no._ ”

 

The brunette contemplates her silently, letting her finish her bumbling protests. The ensuing silence lingers for a second longer than it really needs to. “I’m sorry, I just thought—”

 

“No,” Clarke cuts in with a sigh. “It’s okay. Really. We’re not together, no.”

 

Lexa’s gaze darts between Clarke and Bellamy, who’s now sipping from his cup as he pretends not to watch them from across the shop, out of the corner of one alert eye. “Hm.”

 

Clarke shifts her weight from one foot to the other, suddenly far more uncomfortable than she’d ever been at being mistaken for one half of a couple that included Bellamy. “That a good ‘hm’ or a bad one?”

 

Lexa’s brown orbs settle back on Clarke, clear as day. “I think that depends on you, Clarke.”

 

Silence drifts back into the space between them.

 

It’s a few moments before Lexa offers up another warm smile. “I’ve kept you long enough. Please, go on. Bellamy’s waiting.”

 

Clarke returns Lexa’s smile, but her nod is stilted with puzzlement as she moves to step past her.

 

Bellamy instantly offers to fight her ex-girlfriend as they push through the glass doors together, and her heart grows ridiculously warm at the way the joking curl of his lips offsets the earnestness in his eyes. She bursts out laughing at his attempt at emulating Rocky Balboa by miming using his coffee cup as a punching bag — mostly because the effect is shot to pieces by his thick-rimmed reading glasses sliding sharply down his nose, forcing him to abruptly cut off his performance to push them back up.

 

She somehow never gets around to explaining exactly what it was Lexa had said to make her so visibly uncomfortable.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

**+1.**

 

Clarke doesn’t hate Gina.

 

Gina is beautiful, but not in that obvious, obnoxious way some girls are. She’s smart, funny and totally at ease even in a roomful of strangers. She is exactly the kind of girl Bellamy wouldn’t ever even _consider_ hooking up with, not for the one-night stands he'd always seemed to prefer over the last few years. Then again, she might be mistaken — Bellamy’s certainly never brought anyone back to their apartment since they’d moved in together a year ago.

 

Whatever. Point is, Clarke doesn’t hate Gina.

 

What she _is_ , though, is annoyed, irked, and beyond irritated.

 

She presses her lips together, having long given up on pretending to pay attention to Jasper and Monty’s heated dance-off in the middle of the room. She’s too busy side-eyeing Gina where she’s innocently laughing with Bellamy as he fixes them each a drink. So, _so_ innocent.

 

She suppresses the urge to punch something (or worse, someone) when she sees Gina throw her head back in laughter again, one hand lightly braced on Bellamy’s upper arm as he grins, already slightly flushed from the drinks and the shots Raven’s been forcing on everyone all night long, citing her authority as both party co-hostess and birthday girl.

 

She grits her teeth together when she sees Gina elbow Bellamy playfully. Something snaps at the sight of Bellamy reaching up to rub at the back of his neck. That’s classic nervous-Bellamy, and, fuck everything, Bellamy isn’t supposed to be nervous around a _girl_. He’s _never_ nervous with girls, not even the ones he’s interested in!

 

All of a sudden, she’s up and moving, her feet taking her to Bellamy’s side before she quite realises what she’s doing.

 

She vaguely registers Gina’s raised brows as she notices the blonde’s stormy approach, but other than that, she’s far too focused on reaching up to turn Bellamy’s face towards hers with both hands and roughly pull his lips to hers.

 

She definitely registers the feel of one solid arm banding tight around her waist, and another hand firmly cupping the curve of her hip.

 

She finally releases Bellamy with a satisfied smack of the lips, and turns to smile brightly at their bemused spectator.

 

“Don’t let me interrupt,” she says with forced carelessness, trying her hardest not to think of how her cheeks feel like they’re on fucking _fire_. “What’re we laughing about, then?”

 

Bellamy clears his throat, arm tightening on where it’s still wound around her waist.

 

“Gina was just giving me a few pointers on how I could go about telling my roommate I’m in love with her.”

 

The silence roars through Clarke’s head.

 

Eight feet away, Jasper hoots and whoops in celebration of his victory.

 

“Don’t let me interrupt,” Gina says dryly, quirking a smiling brow at them both. “I’m just gonna go dethrone Jordan now.” She takes her cup and glides away, still smirking at them.

 

 

 

 

 

They break the news to the rest of the gang the next day.

 

Clarke is only slightly offended when literally no one is surprised. “Way to make me feel like a fucking chump, guys,” she grumbles when Murphy and Raven exchange twenty-dollar bills with Lincoln and Monty right in front of them.

 

Bellamy can’t stop smiling either way, pools of sunshine where his eyes used to be.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I AM SUCH A SUCKER FOR THESE TWO I CAN'T EVEN
> 
> kudos/comments always welcome! they particularly help with making me feel like less of a loser for being such trash for two fictional characters UGH they're so precious i seriously can't deal.
> 
> (HOLLER IF YOU CAUGHT THE PRINCESS DIARIES REFERENCE BECAUSE I LOVE YOU)


End file.
